


Hunter Moon

by AxeMeAboutAxinomancy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Epic Friendship, Gen, I Hope You Like Some Meta In Your Meta, Magical Girls, Podfic Available, Post-Episode: s10e05 Fan Fiction, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3679932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxeMeAboutAxinomancy/pseuds/AxeMeAboutAxinomancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course, once you knew magic was real, you had to try it out for yourself, didn't you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Also By Carver Edlund

**Author's Note:**

> _Between the good and bad is where you'll find me,_  
>  _reaching for Heaven_  
>  _I will fight! And I'll sleep when I die_  
>  _I'll live my life,_  
>  _I'm alive!_ \- Becca

After it was all over, Marie realized that the guy who turned out to be the _real_ Dean Winchester had told her all that stuff that had happened to them, and she hadn't believed him, and she couldn't remember half of what he'd said now. If only Maeve had been with them right then! Maeve remembered everything. Marie needed repetition to get lines exactly right. And if she'd realized it was so important she would at least have been listening!

She did remember him saying "Dean became a demon." What the hell was up with that? And "Sam hit a dog"? What, _literally?_

They tried to tell her who they were. Oh, poor wonderful Sam! He looked her in the eye and told her his name... and she laughed in his face. And Maeve told them they were _old_.

 _Cringe_ worthy.

***

Marie had found her first Supernatural book at a flea market. She'd been in a manga phase and was cruising for that, though she'd only had a couple of dollars to spend. This was the big market they only had every couple of months and it was worth going even if you had spent almost your whole allowance on that Lord of the Rings game that you hardly ever played.

Most of the manga had been dull shonen stuff, and the only good thing she saw that day was something she already had. She'd been turning away when her eye slid over what she first assumed was a romance novel. It was out of place in the seller's collection, so she paused and looked again. A car, and two dudes. A _gay_ romance novel.

And the Fabio looking dude. Hah. She should buy it and show it to Maeve.

Marie had drifted closer and closer to it, picked it up, turned it over and read the back of the dustjacket.

_Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious Woman in White lures men to their deaths… a terrifying phenomenon that may be Sam and Dean's first clue to their father's whereabouts._

Oh, they were _brothers?_ Marie had turned the book over and looked at the cover again. Still looked like a gay romance novel. Possibly because of Fabio.

Huh. Reluctantly intrigued now, she'd looked up at the seller. "How much?"

She'd had to borrow another dollar and fifty cents from her mom, but she went home with that book.

And she _loved_ it. She'd read it all in one go, got to the end, sat breathing hard, and then turned back to page 1 and read it again.

She hadn't even known there were other books at first. The one she owned was the first one, and didn't say anything about others to come at the end. When she did get the others, they all had a blurb at the beginning, ALSO BY CARVER EDLUND, and the list varied in size depending on which book it was.

The Scarecrow one, when she finally saw it, had scared the crap out of her. She could hardly read it - but by then she just couldn't leave it alone. She had to find out what happened to Sam and Dean. She'd taken the dustjacket off and hid it so she could read the book, and it _still_ gave her nightmares.

But then suddenly Marie had all the books, and there didn't seem to be any more. Or any more coming. But the story wasn't finished! There had to be so much more. She even sent a letter to the publisher, Flying Wiccan Press, but it had been returned. They'd gone out of business.

It wasn't till later that she'd found the online community. She was into musical theater by then and she only stumbled across a mention of the Supernatural books by accident. Someone had made a sarcastic remark challenging anyone to make the impossible musical… using _all_ the books including "Swan Song."

What? What the hell was "Swan Song"?

That was how she'd found out. There were _more books._ Carver Edlund had written _more books_ but they hadn't been published. Other people had read them. Other people _were reading_ them! How could she _get_ them??

Maeve had helped her with that. They'd been friends since two summers before, when Maeve had moved into her building. It wasn't just that they both went to the same private school, they were kindred spirits. Marie dreamed the dreams, and Maeve worked out how to make them happen.

The comment online, Maeve had pointed out, suggested the content was online. And so it was. Marie longed to have real hardcovers to go with the ones she had, but they had never been printed. There wasn't even any cover art. There was only the text.

But as soon as Marie had read one paragraph, she was sure. This was the real thing. This wasn't like the Oz books where she got titles she had never heard of through the interlibrary loan, only to find out they had been written by someone other than L. Frank Baum. They were Oz books - but they weren't real.

These weren't real physical books, but they were real Supernatural.

She had shut herself up in her room for three days when she was supposed to be studying for finals. She read them all one after the other and then, just as she did with the first book, she went back and read them all again.

And every time, she'd _cried_ when they came back from Heaven and Dean threw the amulet away.

It had made Marie want to plunge her hands into the book (not a real book but the book in her mind, it had no dustjacket) and grab up Dean by the front of his shirt and shake him hard! _You shouldn't have done it. You shouldn't have thrown it away._

It had been that, more than anything, that made her determined to do it. To stage the impossible musical.

***

The day after it was all over, Marie had to come to grips with the fact that the world she lived in was no longer the same as it was before the show.

Now she knew.

Now she knew it was all real. Was that why she'd been so fascinated by it?

She looked at the row of books on her shelf, the familiar titles kept in meticulous order. She looked at her Kindle, with all of the unpublished books loaded on it.

But she knew what was in all of those. She knew them inside out.

What she didn't know was what had happened to them since "Swan Song." Except what Dean had tried to tell her. What else did he say? She tried to concentrate.

"Maeve. I need you to hypnotize me."

Maeve gave her that Look that meant she was being Over the Top.

But in the end, they had a page of Maeve's notebook with the following in neat script.

_Sam came back from Hell. But without a soul. Then, Cas brought in a bunch of Leviathans from Purgatory. They lost Bobby. And then, Cas and Dean got stuck in Purgatory. Sam hit a dog. They met a prophet named Kevin, they lost him too. Then Sam endured a series of trials, in an attempt to close the gates of Hell. Which nearly cost him his life. Then Dean? Dean became a demon. Knight of Hell, actually._

They'd had a little argument about whether that last was 'night' or 'knight', but Maeve's relentless logic won in the end.

"What the hell are Leviathans?"

Marie also couldn't believe that her Sam would ever, ever hit a dog. That was just crazy. And… Sam without a soul?

"He must have gotten it back," Maeve pointed out. And Marie had to agree. The Sam they met (and she will kick herself forever for not realizing it really was him) had been sweet. Just like he was supposed to be.

"And Dean was so not a demon."

"Not anymore," Maeve said.

"Since when can they cure demons?"

Back to the internet. On one of the forums Marie liked best, there was a power user named QueenOfMoons, who suddenly sent a message.

**So have you found the rest of the books yet?**

And a link.

Then they found out what Leviathans were. Marie took the old Scarecrow book down from the shelf and laughed at the cover. She'd never be scared of that again.

And Sam without a soul. There was a whole book where he was like that from beginning to end, the one with the fairies. He was scary. And he was also _funny_ \- funnier than Dean - because he didn't care about feelings.

He got his soul back in the next book, which was both a relief and a horror - oh, what he _endured_. Marie had wondered, when they were still just books to her, what Carver Edlund had against his main characters, but now she wondered what _God_ had against them.

"Speaking of God," Maeve said. "Still wish Castiel could have shown up." She had a thing for wings.

Marie eyed her sternly. "Oh my God, _focus."_

Still, she would have loved to see him too. Kristen did _such_ a good job, Marie knew that, but validation was nice.

"Glad _Crowley_ didn't show up."

Maeve laughed, "He'd probably be pissed you didn't put him in the play."

"I would have. There just wasn't anybody to play him." Except for herself, of course, and she was already understudy for Sam. Oh no, she would have _loved_ to write a showstopper of a song for Crowley, something funny and awful like "Dentist" from Little Shop, only with more pathos. _I deserve to be_ (breath, high note from Frozen) _Loved!_ Awesome. She should still write it.

Of course, she didn't write the songs all by herself. Most of the lyrics were Marie's, but the music was Maeve's and, in a few of the songs, Siobhan's, who was really good when she cared about the material, but when she was half-assed, boy was she half-assed. Marie had had to cut the Ash song out completely. Sorry Ash. But that had freed up Alice to play John.

 _They lost Bobby._ That hurt to know. At least they did right by Bobby in the play, including him in the family for the 'Wayward Son' number. And it had been Maeve's excellent idea for him to get up from the chair like that.

Marie understood now that people didn't look down from Heaven watching over things on earth, no matter what they told her as a child. People in Heaven were each in their own little movie theater of the best times of their lives. But even if he couldn't possibly know about it, she still liked to think she'd done right by Bobby.

The books explained about the dog, and about Purgatory. But they didn't explain how Dean could ever have become a demon.

***

Of course, once you knew magic was real, you had to try it out for yourself, didn't you?

Marie and Maeve scoured old bookstores, and Marie tried to carefully cultivate her acquaintance with QueenOfMoons online. She'd already long since figured out for herself that there was a lot of bullshit mixed in with real lore, wherever it was found. And only an idiot would come right out and blurt, "I met them, I talked to them, they saw my play."

But there was something that made Marie think that the Queen, whoever she was (and if she was even a she), had also met Dean and Sam.

But it was a Harry Potter reference that changed everything.

 _What's Your Patronus?_ , asked the online quiz. Marie wouldn't be caught dead taking the quiz, but of course her Patronus would be something cool. She'd have said 'otter' but that would just be copying Hermione.

"I know what spell we should do," Maeve said one day, more excited than Marie had ever seen her. "Summon Spirit Animal!"

They lived in a no-pets building, and Maeve was allergic to cats, dogs, most animals. But a _magical_ animal wouldn't violate anyone's lease or make anyone miserable with sneezing. It was a brilliant idea.

They tried to think ahead, and avoid being stupid in their enthusiasm.

"Suppose it can't just be banished whenever you want?"

"Then it can live in my brother's room." Maeve's big brother was away at college, and their mom kept it shut up and perfectly clean, like a shrine or something.

"Then let's do it," Marie decided. "You can summon your animal first and then maybe I'll try it later." She was really a little more interested in illusion spells. What a way to supplement your effects budget!

But they researched, took their time, practiced the Latin.

When they did it, it went right, and wrong.

Maeve had drawn a picture of what she had in mind. Not a cat, or a rabbit, but sort of a blend of the two, and awfully cute. When they first met, Marie had had a book of manga in her hand, and Maeve a sketchbook full of Sailor Moon. As Marie's mom said, it was a match made in Tokyo. So Maeve was good at drawing in general (not one of Marie's skills, even slightly) and at drawing anime and manga stuff in particular.

"And it'll be small," Maeve said, eyes bright, "so it can ride on my shoulder. I wonder if it'll be telepathic?"

She was more excited about this than anything to do with the Supernatural play. But back then, it had been Marie's turn to be excited and brimming over with too many ideas - too many to fit in one play, that was - and Maeve had been the calm one who helped sort out logistics. So this time, it was Marie's turn to do that. She paid for half of the ingredients they needed from her allowance and birthday money, she checked over the Latin and she even carefully consulted with QueenOfMoons - in a totally hypothetical way of course.

But it was all done right. And it should have worked the way they expected it to. But that was lesson number one about practical magic: You could _expect_ a specific Patronus, but you were stuck with what showed up.

What showed up was a small, pink, adorable cat-rabbit just like Maeve drew. It had big eyes and two sets of ears. One pointy cat set, and a floppy set that seemed too long for it to be able to actually walk without tripping over them.

"Why pink?" she'd asked when Maeve showed her the picture. "It'd be cuter if it was white."

"Yeah, but it'd get dirty. Besides. I don't want it to look like Kyubey from Madoka. Then it would give me the creeps."

Marie hadn't seen that one, but hey - this was to be Maeve's magical pet. If she wanted pink, why not pink?

It was thrilling to see it appear, whatever it looked like. It was real magic, no doubt about that. A ball of scintillating light that bloomed out like a little pink firework. And then there it was. Real. Solid.

The problem was… Maeve couldn't see it. It _meep_ ed at her, but she couldn't hear it. Then it jumped into Marie's arms, making her shriek with surprise.

"Meep!" it said, and snuggled down against her chest in a way that would be really creepy if it weren't a cute animal.

"Oh my God no," said Marie, but it was done. The thing was hers.

Maeve thought at first that the spell hadn't worked at all. And when Marie tried to explain, Maeve burst into tears. Maeve, who _never_ cried.

"You get everything!" she said to Marie. "You get to be the star of everything! And I have to be the sidekick! All I wanted was _this one thing…!"_

And just like that, Marie had no best friend.

School was a misery. The nights and weekends limped by with no one to talk to. Marie spent more and more time on the internet.

She didn't _feel_ like she got everything. She didn't _feel_ like the star of anything. And she didn't have a sidekick - except for the hateful little pink thing that nobody else could see. It followed her around and wouldn't go away.

"Begone!"

"Meep."

"I banish you!"

"Meep."

_"Discedo!"_

"Meep?"

"GO! AWAY!"

"Meep."

_"I wish the goblins would come and take you away right now!"_

And so on. Nothing worked. The only person she had to talk to about things like this was Maeve. Maeve was the one who had always made things work. And lately it was hard to even prove Maeve _existed_ , as she dropped out of the drama club and never crossed Marie's path in their building. There wasn't even any chance to run into her and plead for forgiveness, for help, for her friend back. _I never thought you were a sidekick, I thought we were a team._ The one time she tried to talk to her at lunch, Maeve saw her coming and ducked out of the fire exit.

Marie went home, threw herself down on the bed and cried.

Finally she got up, took a deep breath, and looked at her shelves. All of the published Supernatural books, and a handful of real lore books. In Marie's experience, it was best practice to hide things in plain sight, rather than try to lock them safely away from her mom's snooping.

And on the shelf above, colorful (though dusty) rows of manga books. All the stuff she was into before that day in the flea market. Revolutionary Girl Utena. Fushigi Yuugi. Fruits Basket. And of course, Sailor Moon.

She remembered Maeve's sketchbook and felt a fresh wave of grief. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the pink cat-rabbit thing sitting on her bed like a stuffed animal. She snatched it up.

"This is all your fault! _Why_ didn't you go to Maeve? She's the one who wanted you, not me!"

"Meep…?" The stupid thing with its stupid eyes and the one stupid sound it made!

"WHAT DO YOU WANT!?" Marie shouted at it.

And it said,

"I want to grant your dearest wish!"

in a cute little voice, and then it _smiled_ at her by scrunching up its eyes.

She dropped it, and _screamed_.


	2. Transformation Phrase

Of course, she got over it.

"So let me get this straight. _One_ wish?"

The pink thing squinched at her. "That's right. Your dearest wish!"

"Yeah, but - _one_."

"You can only have one _dearest_ wish," said the creature, pedantically.

Well, that was technically true. But annoying. And kind of cheap.

"I'll have to think about it."

"Okay! But don't think too long! I can't stay in your world if you don't make a wish within three days."

Huh. It figured. Just like with choosing your whole future while still a kid in school and you didn't necessarily know what you wanted in life.

It said its name was Fada. And when she asked why it chose her and not Maeve, who had wanted it, it would only say that Marie was the one who was qualified.

She checked her email. Nothing from Maeve. Why had she thought there would be? She checked the forum messages and found that QueenOfMoons hadn't been logged in for almost a week.

_What is my dearest wish?_

Before the play, it would have been so easy. It would have been like handing a magic lamp to Rachel from Glee. _I wanna be a star!_

But while it wasn't like that dream had suddenly gone away… it didn't seem like the same world anymore to Marie. When there really _were_ demons, and tulpas, and witches, and kitsunes, and fairies, and vampires, and Muses intent on eating the author, and all the ghosts and other things. Lucifer. Metatron. All of the scary things were _real_.

And Dean turned into a demon.

She left another message for QueenOfMoons. She'd asked about it before, but the Q of M hadn't answered that particular question.

When she went to bed, she made Fada sleep down by her feet. It clearly wanted to snuggle, it was into that, but it was simply not as cute as Maeve had thought it would be. Its fur was... weird to the touch. It also had a funny sort of smell. Marie would have asked for a black cat, if she'd known _she_ would be stuck with it. Like Sailor Moon's Luna.

In the morning, there was a new reply from the Q of M. The message was short, and informative, and depressing: it told Marie about the Mark of Cain, the First Blade, and Dean. Then that she would be out of touch for awhile, recovering. From what, she didn't say.

Marie didn't go to school that day. It was easy enough to feign nausea for Mom's benefit. It was hardly even a lie.

_What is my dearest wish?_

To have her friend back. To be a team again. But she couldn't ask for that.

She stood up on her bed and pulled down one of the printed books, Dream A Little Dream of Me, and flipped through the pages, looking for a particular scene. She didn't use this in the play. She didn't have enough people to have a second Dean, and she didn't have any available twins.

 

 

 

> _"Well aren't you a handsome son of a gun," said Dean, trying to smirk at his double, who didn't smirk back. It wasn't a very good smirk anyway._

That was the one. Dean made a joke about Superman III in it, and Marie would _never_ forgive the time she wasted watching that movie just to know what he was talking about. Thanks to him, half the references she knew were like, thirty years out of date. She previously blamed Carver Edlund, but now she knew better.

The two Deans talked a little bit, and then real Dean tried to snap his fingers, and the other Dean just stared at him and waited. That part had always made Marie shiver. Now it was worse. Her mental picture of Dean had been a little different, the last time she read this book.

She never liked this one really. It had an interesting premise, but the intercut scene with Sam being beaten by the dream guy always made her flinch. The book went into pretty brutal detail about how much it hurt, and it being only a dream didn't make it any less painful to read.

And the cruel things Dean said to himself, she found that almost worse now. It was such a relief when he snapped and started to fight, and shouted that he didn't deserve to go to Hell. He fired two shots right into the other Dean's chest. Then back to poor Sam being kicked and beaten, ugh.

Finally, here was the part she was looking for.

 

 

 

> _Dean moved closer, cautiously. Well, it was interesting, to see what he looked like dead. And the other him was definitely dead, red holes in him and no breath._
> 
> _But then the eyes opened and looked at him. And the eyes were black. The other Dean sat up with shocking quickness and leered at him._
> 
> _"You can't escape me, Dean! You're gonna die. And this - this is what you're gonna become!"_
> 
> _Dean stared into those midnight eyes in his own face and there was nothing he could say._

And - she double checked, skimming to the end, Bela stole the Colt, hunt the bitch down, blah blah blah. (It was that constant use of 'bitch' that made her turn Dean into a woman in Act II of her play so someone could say it to him/her for a change.) Yup, when Sam asked him what he saw, Dean lied. Of course he did. He never told Sam, or anyone.

But there was a really nice BM scene in that one, in Baby. Dean admitting to Sam that he didn't want to go to Hell. Sam, helpless but reassuring him they'd figure it out. Dean, wanting to believe that, but knowing better. It made her want to cry now.

She put the book back on the shelf. The she reached up higher and pulled a random manga down.

There was a rustling in the corner as Fada finished working its way out of the laundry pile she'd stuffed it in. "Are you thinking about your dearest wish?" it chirped.

"Yup." She was starting to think her dearest wish would be to kick the thing into outer space, but she knew better than to joke about it out loud. She didn't worry about hurting its feelings, but it would be a waste of her one and only wish. Her wish could just include that capability.

She turned her attention back to the book in her hands. It was a volume of Sailor Moon. Usagi was an idiot, but her special power was basically being a good friend. She was the one who brought out the talents in the others. Of course, it didn't hurt that she was the reincarnated princess of the moon and they'd all been friends in a previous life.

"Remember, you can wish for anything!" burbled Fada.

"Shut up," Marie muttered. "I can't think when you're talking."

She put the manga back on the shelf and touched the spines of the Supernatural books before bouncing down on the bed with a grunt.

All the things in those books were real, and more besides. The world was full of threatening things, and there were only so many hunters. How long could they go on?

She could be a hunter. Now that she knew. But she was alone. She couldn't do it alone. And she didn't want to be a witch. Not only did she know what happened to them in the end, but her only experience with conjuring had been a distinct disappointment. Sure, practice would help, but like with singing, or acting, or writing, there had to be some basic talent. She couldn't believe Maeve had made a mistake, so there must have been something wrong with the recipe they used. Spells were out.

But. There was something else she could be.

Marie turned to Fada, her heart pounding, and said, firmly, "Okay. I've decided."

"Yes?" It jumped up, both sets of ears quivering with excitement. "Your fondest wish?"

"Yup." She stood up, because it seemed like the sort of thing you shouldn't do sitting on your bed in your pajamas. "Ready?"

"Yes, yes?"

"I want to be a magical girl."

"O -"

 _"Wait._ I want to be a _really powerful_ magical girl who can hunt demons and ghosts and stuff."

"Very w- "

 _"And_ bad angels and Leviathans and whatever else."

"All r- "

"AND have healing powers too. So I can save the ones that aren't beyond saving."

"Anything else?" it said, with a trace of sarcasm. She ignored it. Negotiation was important.

"And an awesome transformation sequence and everything. Magical girl. Hunter. That's it. I wish."

"You must devise your own transformation spell," said Fada.

"Oh!" said Marie uncomfortably. She hadn't thought about that at all! She hated improv. She should have worked out a script.

What the hell was she supposed to say? She'd be stuck with it, it would be _canon_. It had to be good. But her mind was blank.

"You must do this now," Fada said, completely unhelpfully.

Marie looked feverishly around her room as though something in it would help her. It reminded her of Labyrinth, all the crap in the girl's room that showed up later in the other world. Her eyes moved over pictures, posters, the one trophy she'd ever won. Books. Trinkets. Costumes. Old props. _Crap_. Nothing here was of any use whatsoever.

"Hurry," said the stupid pink marshmallow thing. Why did she have to rush! It wasn't _fair!_

 _You say that so often. I wonder what your basis for comparison is_ , said David Bowie in her head.

And why was Labyrinth stuck in her head when she hadn't seen it in years? It wasn't her favorite, it was Maeve's favorite. All those Muppets.

But it did open up with the main character girl practicing a part for a play. That, Marie was always able to relate to.

"Now," Fada said, its voice urgent. Marie sighed.

She didn't have any magic doodads like Sailor Moon. She only had herself and what was in her brain. So she used that. She clenched her fist in front of her pounding heart.

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. _I will fight!"_

She felt profoundly stupid. But she meant every word.

"Acceptable," said Fada, in a very different voice, and then the whole world went sideways.

***

She is in a place that is not a place. There doesn't seem to be time, either. Not linear time.

There's just herself, and the potential of power, and the concept that she brought to the table of her wish: _transformation sequence._ She knows what those are like.

They start with the girl. Naked. Not, like, porn naked, or it shouldn't be. True naked, a blank slate.

The music in her head is Sailor Moon's. She can't help that. She can't compose her own music. It will have to do.

The magic is waiting. She holds out her hands to it: _I need armor._

It tries to do its own thing, so she has to guide it a lot. Color scheme: Dear God no pink. Purple, and black. Whoa! There will need to be leggings under that. Yes to black leather, but a whole lot more of it. How is she supposed to fight with her butt hanging out? Does she even have to have a skirt? A longer skirt would stop her from kicking. Make it a leather coat with a skirty hem. Pants. Boots. Excuse me, _kickass_ boots. She may need to actually kick ass in them.

She turns slowly as the things appear. Her hands are still up: she focuses on them. Wow, her nails. Deep purple with sparks. Awesome.

_Enough vanity. I'm a magic user but I need weapons. And protections._

A silver knife, curved like the moon.

Oh hell yes, with a steampunk style, why the hell not, a clockwork self-reloading crossbow on one arm. A shield for the other arm, that folds itself up like a fan and opens out fast, _shing!_ when she lifts up her arm just so.

On her skin appear sigils, runes, glyphs. They appear etched in fire, then fade to invisibility. She can feel on the back of her neck what can only be the anti-possession spell, that the brothers have in the form of a tattoo. Hers is part of her armor.

No glasses. Perfect vision. How about a pair of theme-appropriate goggles, pushed back on her head, which when used have a heads-up display for targeting and other useful functions. For when things get really hairy.

Ah, and how about a gun in this thigh holster right here. How about the Colt in it. Why not? Nobody knew what happened to it.

 _Balance_. For the other leg, an angel blade.

Where do these things even come from? Are they real? She's still revolving, looking down at herself.

 _I think I've got everything…_ Though of course she knows that the moment she can't go back, she'll remember something really important. The sort of thing Maeve would have told her not to forget under any circumstances. But no - she's covered. She'll have spells for holy water and salt. And for making devil's traps. She definitely thought of that.

She doesn't see how she's supposed to deal with holy oil, though. That seems very specialized. She hopes she doesn't have to tangle with any angels. The biggest of those could only be killed by the First Blade anyhow. And that thing is one of her problems.

The music is winding to a close. This is it, what she is now is what she's going to be, a finished piece on a potter's wheel. She has no idea what other people are going to call her, but privately she thinks she ought to be called **Hunter Moon.**

***

When she got a look at herself, her first thought was, _Oh my God. I'm a badass._

Her second thought was, _What have they done to my hair!_

"I said no pink!" she shouted at Fada, who sat proudly regarding her.

"None in your clothes or weapons. Only on your head. It is a harmonious color scheme," said the little pink bastard. Marie wasn't quite sure, but Fada seemed to be enjoying itself at her expense.

Marie sighed and glowered at the mirror, but though she wouldn't EVER have chosen it, it did make her look completely different. Whoa, even her _eyes_ were purple. Nice!

"Hey, wait a minute. Where are my glasses?" Not to mention the pajamas she'd been wearing, her favorite ones.

"They were destroyed in the transition."

Marie gave a squawk of dismay. Her glasses! The new pair! Mom would END her. But she did have another pair, and maybe she could think of something. First things first. "Do I need to come up with a phrase for changing back, too?"

It blinked its blank button eyes once. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"How do I change back?" she said impatiently.

Blink. "You _don't,"_ it said. "Duh!"

***

Right at the end of the day someone said to Maeve, "She's missing, you know."

No one had to say any more than _she_ to Maeve when they meant Marie.

"No she isn't. She's sulking." In maximum drama mode, too, no doubt. _Woe is me! Oh woe! Or should it be O woe!_

"Her mom filed a police report."

It took Maeve a second to react, to say, "What?" but by then the hall had filled up with everyone going home.

When Marie's mom answered her door, she saw it was Maeve and started to cry.

She found herself in the kitchen, bringing Marie's mom tissues and making some tea. There was a stunned place in her gut that felt as though she'd been punched.

"We had an argument," she admitted. "Last week. I'm… I was mad at her and I wasn't talking to her. I'm sorry."

"She was hardly talking to _me,"_ said Marie's mom. "She's been shut up in her room - practicing lines - or else talking to herself. I could never tell the difference!"

Maeve did not say, though it cost her a bite nearly through her tongue, _Where were you for the play? Or the one last year? Or the stupid pancake breakfast?_

She suddenly didn't feel mad at Marie at all anymore. She felt stupid for the things she said. Something went wrong when they tried to do magic, and now Marie was _missing_.

Why had she said those things at all? Maeve didn't _want_ to be a star. She'd turned down the chance to be in the show. Yes, she was understudy for Jody Mills, but it was a small non-singing part and anyway it was a formality, Ashley was never sick.

Or, well, kidnapped by Muses. But still. That only happened when people tried to quit the show. You could count on Ashley.

Being a star meant relying on the audience's love, and they were fickle. Maeve needed things she could rely on. Electricity. Lists. Contingency plans. Making people love them was a hero power, something Marie could sometimes do when she wasn't driving them completely insane with bossy demands and perfectionism.

Okay, maybe she was still a _little_ mad.

Maeve's dream hadn't been to be a star. She'd just had a little dream. She wanted an animal friend. She was allergic to everything cuddly, even most stuffed animals. And for that one little dream to be taken away after all that work... Maeve had just snapped. And she'd stayed angry, because Marie had what Maeve wanted, and acted like she didn't even want it.

But Marie had not come home for two days, and she'd left her wallet, her cell phone, and even her key. She didn't appear to have taken any clothes. "Not even her coat," her mom said repeatedly, pulling tissues from the box.

"Could I… look in her room? Maybe I'll - " Marie's mom was already nodding and waving her off, "think of… something…"

She almost ran to Marie's room. It was a relief to get away from the crying. She was starting to feel like it might be contagious.

Marie's room looked dishevelled, as though it had been searched. By police? Maeve's eye went right to the real grimoires on the shelf overhead - still there. Marie had been right, keeping them out in the open had been the way to go.

Her laptop was gone. Did they take it to check for evidence of - of an abduction, looking for chat logs? What all did the police do? Maeve didn't know and didn't want to talk to Marie's mom anymore.

All she found in Marie's room were her own memories of the time they spent hanging out in here. Hours reading manga, passing volumes back and forth, or watching fansubbed anime on Marie's laptop.

And then that last day, and the spell.

_Why did the spell go wrong?_

For the first time, Maeve's analytical mind truly accepted that it was not as she had assumed, Marie really had not been at fault, and something really had gone wrong. It was kind of a bitter pill - but Marie was _missing_.

What did the magical creature do to her? She should never have drawn it to look so much like Kyubey. It was bad luck.

She had drawn it, though, and she had wanted it. If it manifested - and it _had_ \- why did it go to Marie instead of her? Why could Maeve not even see it?

And where were they now?

Maeve could have made this right in a moment - or started to - if Marie had her phone. She could send a text saying she was sorry. But that wasn't an option.

She looked at the rows of books and manga above. They were dusty, but not uniformly. They'd been disturbed recently, Marie had been looking at the old Supernatural books and some Sailor Moon. Maeve felt another pang of nostalgia.

She looked down and saw Marie's Kindle sitting on the edge of the desk. On it were all of the Supernatural books that weren't physically on paper, meaning most of them. Numbly, Maeve picked it up. Her brain was slowly coming back online, working over the different parts of the problem.

She didn't even ask Marie's mom if she could take it. She just put it in her bag and left.

Fact: Marie being missing had to do with the magical creature - with magic. Maeve knew that already, but it was further underscored by Marie's not taking any of her stuff with her.

Fact: Marie could see the creature, and Maeve, who summoned it, could not.

That fact was more important than it looked. It nagged at her. It meant something.

She hadn't read all of the Supernatural books. She liked them okay, and she'd read all the printed ones. But though she had read all of the ones through Swan Song, she hadn't had time to go through the most recent ones Marie had found. The ones where Sam didn't have his soul. They'd skipped right to him getting it back, and Purgatory and Leviathans.

They were all here on Marie's Kindle. Maeve made a list of the ones she hadn't read yet, and got down to it.

She was halfway through the third one on her list when she got it, and gasped.

_Oh, Marie. You are in trouble._

_And it's my fault._

She went home and paced each room in the apartment in turn, thinking. She couldn't get Marie's laptop, but she knew Marie's habits and at least one of her passwords. That Supernatural forum with the dark blue background that was always open in a browser window. And Marie had mentioned someone else she thought had met the Winchesters. The Queen of... something or other.

Maeve found the site, went to log in and couldn't remember what Marie's name there was. But looking through the comments on some likely posts, she found her by her avatar. An animated GIF of a star. What else? With the username in hand, Maeve had the password in two tries. Marie didn't actually use 'password' for her password, but she might as well have as far as Maeve was concerned.

Signed in. Private message box. And there was a conversation thread between Marie and the Queen. Right, _Moons_. QueenOfMoons. Maeve read over it quickly, sucked in her breath, then read it over again slowly and carefully, committing each word to memory.

Then, heart pounding, she began a new message to QueenOfMoons.


	3. Touch Amethyst For More

If she didn't find some way to get some rest soon, sleep deprivation was going to take care of what the monsters couldn't.

She tried to pull a Katniss - sleep up a tree, that is - but Marie was a city girl and not that good a judge of trees. And when she finally managed to find and climb a suitable one, she made the mistake of putting her goggles on to take a quick look around before going to sleep.

When she saw what all was out there, all around her, there was no sleeping.

Ghosts.

The world turned out to be FULL of ghosts and they all seemed vaguely attracted to her. They didn't seem to do anything, she couldn't feel them, but the goggles showed that they were around her all the time.

There weren't just ghosts in the woods, either. She could also see some trace in the HUD of living creatures, a lot more than anyone would ever guess. She was alone, and surrounded.

Without a civilian mode, she couldn't just walk around among normal people. Not unless she went to an anime con or a fashionable part of Tokyo or something. And she quickly learned that if she hadn't asked for it or at least _thought_ about it while she had the chance, then she didn't get it. Sailor Moon could use her power for disguises when she needed to, but Hunter Moon couldn't. _Because she forgot to ask for it._

She already felt so stupid about the whole thing. The name just made it worse.

She fell asleep for what felt like a minute. But though her position was safe the sensation of being up in the air made her wake up again, heart pounding, gripping at the branches, sure she'd been falling.

This wasn't going to work.

Home. She yearned for it so much. For her mom. And even if Maeve wasn't talking to her, she lived under the same roof.

And her bed, oh how Marie wanted her bed, to close her eyes and be warm and comfortable and safe.

Not that she was literally cold. Between her armor and her magic she was strong and fast, she could jump as high as Buffy, and she didn't seem to feel hunger or thirst, though it had been a really long time since she last ate or drank.

That seemed… a little worrying. But it didn't seem to be slowing her down. It was her _brain_ that was so tired.

Brain. Work, brain. What would Maeve do?

Maeve would never have gotten herself into this mess. Maeve would have made a smart wish.

The swirling ghosts around the base of the tree just gathered there like mist and didn't do anything else. She thought about that scene in the Hobbit with 'fifteen birds in five fir trees'. Yeah, at least there wasn't anybody trying to set the tree on fire, but she was a magical girl up a maple, and she longed to go home (not for the last time!)

She did get a little sleep, then. A few hours slipped by between one slow blink and the next: the sun was rising. Down on the ground, the ghosts were dispersing, wandering off. Sunlight made a difference to them.

She fell asleep again. The next time she woke, the sun was higher and she felt a lot better. She reached up to push the goggles back up and as she did, her fingers brushed against the jewels on the sides of the frames, and the display changed.

There was the time, for one thing! It had been driving her crazy not to have her phone or a watch or any way of knowing the most basic thing, what time it was.

And there was text! There was a sort of running display along the bottom of the display like a news ticker. -MPIRE NEST, NYC… SHAPESHIFTER+1, LOUISIANA….. WITCHES RECRUITING, CALIFORNIA...... ***ACTIVE SHTRIGA, MISSOURI….. TOUCH AMETHYST FOR MORE, TOUCH ONYX TO GO BACK.

 _Oh my God._ Instructions! She could cry with relief. She'd tried to bring her laptop with her, because, well, hunters had a laptop to help find their cases, but her costume didn't have anywhere to put it, there wasn't any wireless when you slept up a tree, and anyway she dropped it on some rooftop getting out of Flint.

But her goggles seemed to be a kind of computer. Kind of a JARVIS Lite. Marie checked to see if they would respond to voice commands, but they didn't. She had to fiddle around with menus and it was a little frustrating, but it would have been a lot worse if she hadn't gotten a little bit of sleep.

The ghost-vision mode she'd had on at first was activated by one of the jewels on the other side, a moonstone. All of the jewels were smooth round cabochons. She didn't know what the cat's eye was for. When she touched it, nothing seemed to happen.

Maybe it was supposed to have been the button for the civilian mode she didn't ask for, but in that case why have a button? Maybe it was just there for symmetry.

No, then she finally found it. It was EYE to the goggles - her own eye kept passing over the word in search of the word CAT, until she figured it out. Its function was to DETECT POSSESSED BEING [DEMON/ANGEL] - and it wasn't working now, because there wasn't anyone here to scan. That was _sweet_. That was incredibly useful.

Now, that… She didn't specifically ask for that, so why did she have it? She'd said - or thought - it was a little vague now - that she wanted the goggles for targeting, and other useful functions. Apparently 'useful' meant more than just a display of the time!

She longed more than ever for Maeve, to see what Maeve would make of the menu system and the design, and what she might find out from it that Marie wasn't seeing.

But if she could have talked to Maeve, she wouldn't even have been here now.

The goggles reverted to live mode after too much idle time in the menus, and now the text crawl was blinking.

*** **ACTIVE SHTRIGA** , MISSOURI….. TOUCH AMETHYST FOR MORE.

She touched the amethyst.

Black Jack, Missouri. From the map, a suburb of St. Louis. A Shtriga feeding off the life force of children in a gated community.

Shtriga, she remembered that! That was from the printed books. A Shtriga attacked Sam when he was a little boy, and the brothers hunted it down later.

For the first time since she changed, she thought about the Winchesters directly. What were they doing? Would they be hunting this? Would she be able to help them?

Would they be able to help her?

***

The kids in question were a group of friends, and their secret clubhouse was where the Shtriga stalked them.

It was just an old shed behind a house that had been empty for several years. The backyard was overgrown and it made their cookie-cutter neighborhood seem mysterious.

And now two of the friends were in the hospital, but the others were still going to the secret clubhouse.

Well. Unlike Sam and Dean, she didn't have to pretend to be some kind of official to talk to witnesses. She couldn't walk around most places but these were kids and she was a kid. Older than them, but still.

She walked right behind them, and they didn't seem to notice her. Only when she said, "Hey," did the kids, a girl and two boys, turn in surprise.

They looked at her, and she looked at them. She did not know what to say. How _was_ a magical girl supposed to introduce herself? Announcing your name and some catchphrase was what you did with enemies.

"I'm new here," she said, which was one hundred percent true.

"I'm Jessie," said the girl. She looked about ten or eleven to Marie. "This is my brother and his friend TJ."

"Yeah, I have a _name_ ," said the brother, who looked a few years older than Jessie and not utterly uncute. "Justin. What's yours?"

"Hunter Moon," said Marie, shifting nervously before reminding herself to stand tall, like on stage. "I fight monsters."

"Cool," said Jessie, eyes devouring her costume.

Marie felt a lot better all of a sudden. Even if the admirer _was_ wearing a Frozen t-shirt, it was still good to be admired.

"So, uh. I heard… some of your friends are sick. I'm here to help."

Justin was not as easily impressed and he eyed her dubiously. But it was TJ who said, "How? They're in the hospital."

He seemed like the oldest of the kids, so she said to him, "I've got healing powers, if they need that, but the reason they're sick is in there." She pointed toward the overgrown garden shed. "It's a monster called a Shtriga. I'm gonna deal with it."

They stared at Marie.

"Can we watch?"

Oops. "No," she said firmly. "In fact you ought to go home right now."

"But I wanna see!!" Jessie was getting worked up.

Now she looked to Jessie's brother. If he was letting his much younger sister hang out with him and his friend, then he was a protective brother like Dean, and not a bully like Maeve's brother Robert. So she could appeal to the 'Dean' in Justin.

"Dangerous," she said to Justin. "Seriously." Improvising a little, "It could totally grab one of you as a hostage. Let me deal with it."

Reluctantly, he nodded, and corralled Jessie, who complained, but a little less forcefully after the 'hostage' remark. TJ looked disgusted and said, "I'll go with them. There's some Jehovah's Witnesses or something talking to my mom."

"Fine," said Marie, already turning to look at the shed, and putting the goggles on.

The targeting scanner blipped on. There were some kind of readings along the side, scratchy and surging up and down, like something breathing. In the shed.

Okay. She was scared. With the kids out of the way, everything looked a lot creepier. And darker. And she was so totally on her own.

She looked down at her hands. She had practiced a little with the crossbow, on the first day. And opening the shield. She had drawn the curved knife from her waist, but it looked so sharp she was sure she'd cut her own fingers off and carefully put it away again. Now, she tried to get her thoughts out of the panicking loop they were spiraling into.

What killed a Shtriga? Hadn't they shot it with silver? She looked at the Colt, but she had silver bolts for the crossbow. That ought to work, and she'd actually practiced with that weapon and the finger positions that operated it - arm, disarm, fire. She was a little scared of the Colt, though. She'd only ever fired prop guns. The Colt felt heavy and old and huge in her hands when she'd looked at it.

She hoped she'd never really need it. Or the angel blade.

Movement inside the shed. Marie gulped down her stomach, which was trying to escape, and opened her shield. _Shing!_ It really was badass. It was shiny and reflected light like the full moon. But if she ever had her arm positioned wrong when she opened it she'd probably lose an eye.

The crossbow had a sort of trigger that attached to her fingers via a glove. She'd figured that out already. She made sure it was primed, and then she marched up to the shed and kicked the door in.

The targeting scanner started flashing in a really unhelpful way. There was something cold and awful inside that small space, uncoiling into something much larger.

"Shtriga, meet - "

**WHAM!!!**

She was flat on her back and she couldn't seem to breathe and the thing was on top of her reaching for her face with its long horrible claw hand. The crossbow arm was trapped against the ground but the shield was between Marie and the thing, the Shtriga, it was like a Dementor, a Ringwraith, like every cloaked hissing horror that ever gave her nightmares when she was little.

It made rattling screechy noises as it scrabbled for her face. She shoved at the hand with her shield and jerked to the side, trying to free her arm. What was she stuck on! Her own stupid coat skirt! What had she been _thinking_ , it was as stupid as having a cape!

Marie jerked again, hard, and heard a low seam-ripping sound but finally the crossbow was up and _thunk!-thunk!-thunk!_ Screeching filled her ears as the Shtriga jerked back, and Marie climbed back to her feet, shaking. She'd hurt it. But only that, even though one of those bolts went right into its face.

What was the thing with Shtrigas? Why wasn't _that_ in her stupid steampunk Google Glass? Why couldn't she remember things when she needed to!

_When it feeds. Vulnerable when it feeds. They had to use that kid as bait -_

Oh no. Please, no. She couldn't _do_ that. She couldn't just let it put that horrible Emperor Palpatine hand on her face and suck out part of her soul.

Well, then it would just take one of those kids next, wouldn't it? TJ or Justin or little Jessie with her light-up pink shoelaces. And those were just the kids she had seen, that she had names for.

 _Gird your loins and get it over with._ What else could she do?

She kept her fingers carefully in the crossbow controls, but let the round shield retract like a folded fan. It made a whispery little noise that sounded loud to her and the Shtriga both: its head whipped around, or at least, its hood did. Did it have a head in there?

Her heart was pounding and her mouth was dry, though to her relief it seemed that magical girls did not wet their pants. "Okay," she said hoarsely. "Okay. Come and get some, then."

There were voices in the next yard. Marie glanced aside, saw only a fence and some overgrown shrubs, then when she looked back at the Shtriga it was right there in front of her. Of course.

And that hand was _touching her face._ It shoved her goggles up and pressed down. She struggled not to just fire every bolt at the thing right now and get it off her but she knew she had to _wait_ , she had to make herself wait. It had to be feeding. She had to let it -

Oh.

Oh no.

It was as awful and irresistible as vomiting. Her mouth yawed open painfully wide and a bright white firefly bobbed up and out from inside her. The Shtriga was sucking at the air, pulling it out.

And it hurt.

It hurt in a way she'd never be able to describe to anyone - if she got out of this alive.

But it was doing what it was supposed to do, it was like the light hanging over an anglerfish's head, she had big teeth and she was going to make this monster sorry.

 _Now, it's feeding, now._ Her hand was so heavy to lift. But the crossbow, loaded with silver, was easy to fire. _thunk!-thunk!-thunk!-thunk!-thunk!-thunk!_ She kept firing and the thing flinched back, but -

She hadn't killed it. It was still coming for her!

She stumbled back, her ears ringing, and in that moment she finally, _finally_ remembered:

_Iron._

It was iron. You were supposed to kill a Shtriga with iron!

 _Not one of her weapons was iron._ Unless - she didn't know what was loaded in the Colt, she didn't even know if it was loaded!

Maeve would _never_ have made any of these stupid mistakes. Maeve would have thought about the coat hem too, and probably about being able to change back. Maeve should have been the magical girl.

The breath was knocked out of her again as the Shtriga smashed her back against the fence, all the way across the yard. Its hand was sliding onto her face again. She scrabbled for the Colt, fumbling for the release to get it out of the holster. It had been an afterthought. She'd put it on the side of her non-dominant hand.

Once again the thing was right on top of her, she was pinned against the fence, mouth open as the little lights of her soul were sucked out and into the Shtriga's cold, cold mouth. All of her strength was draining away into darkness. Every thought she ever had. Every feeling. Every spark.

Then -

There were some **very loud bangs** that hurt her ears, and the Shtriga screeched like a kettle boiling over and dropped her on the ground. Marie landed on her butt, dazed, her goggles sliding down over her eyes. She could only feel them against her face. Her vision was a rippling blackness. She couldn't feel her limbs. She was going out like a candle.

A mist of light came slipping and rippling through the darkness to her, and she breathed it in with nose and mouth. It was another feeling she'd never be able to explain, getting her soul back. It was like food and drink and sleep and love all in a breath, waking her up again. She closed her eyes, and exhaled, trembling. _I'm alive._

"Are you okay?"

Marie opened her eyes with a gasp and looked up at the worried face, and outstretched hand, of Sam Winchester.


	4. Breathing Into A Paper Bag

He looked the same as when she'd first seen him, in fact he was probably wearing the same suit.

Behind him, also in a suit, gun in his hand, was Dean.

_Oh. 'Jehovah's Witnesses.'_

She tried not to laugh, but she was a little giddy from breathing her soul stuff back in. Sam looked even more worried. So Marie made sure her crossbow trigger was disengaged and then took the offered hand.

His hand was really warm, even through her glove, and completely enormous. He helped her up with exactly the amount of strength to set her straight on her feet, but ye gods and little fishes, he could juggle girls if he wanted to.

_Focus._

"Were you - fighting that thing?" Sam asked her, and she took a breath to explain that she wasn't exactly LARPing here when Dean stepped closer and said sharply, "Is that the _Colt?"_

Marie still had her goggles on, and when she focused on Dean, they showed him as a target. But they hadn't done that with Sam.

Okay, maybe not a target exactly as with the Shtriga, but they seemed to view him as a Person of Interest. MARK OF CAIN… TOUCH AMETHYST FOR MORE.

She did not touch the amethyst. She didn't want to look at Dean through a weapon scope. She reached to push the goggles up, and Dean reacted so quickly that she heard Sam say warningly "Dean!" before she even saw him lift the gun. She froze.

Since the gunshots the neighborhood dogs had been barking. So far, no sirens.

"I only wanna take my goggles off," she said, and though she tried hard to sound calm, there was a tremor in her voice that all of them could hear.

"Okay," said Dean, but he didn't lower the gun.

"Dean," Sam said again.

Marie pushed her goggles up, and the colors of everything shifted, the overgrown yard even darker in the falling dusk.

"I was kind of hoping I'd run into you guys," she said. "This - is really hard by yourself." And she should have known that. Even her one-woman show had still had a crew. Without others she was just saying lines to her mirror. And almost getting killed, because she forgot about iron.

Dean's face changed and he lowered the gun. He even put it away.

"Are you - Marie?" said Sam incredulously.

She nodded miserably.

"Thank you," she said to Dean. "You saved me. I didn't have any iron weapons."

"What about that?" said Dean, gesturing to the leg holster. _"Is_ that the Colt? Or is it a replica or something."

"I have no idea," she said honestly. "I don't even know if it's loaded, guns scare the crap out of me."

She saw them trade a look. She didn't blame them really, but she'd had a hard couple of days.

"You wanna tell us what's going on?" said Sam, in a tone she'd heard him use as 'Agent Smith'.

She sighed.

"I'm a magical girl. I've got powers and stuff and uh, I hunt. I'm a hunter. Hunter Moon."

She could kick them both in the ankles for laughing at her.

"Okay, yeah it's hilarious," she snapped. "Maybe you could keep laughing at me in the car, since somebody's gonna come check out those shots you fired any minute now."

"Yes ma'am, Sailor Marie."

And that was how she ended up riding along in the back seat of Baby while they drove west into the sunset and she told them her Story So Far.

Dean was driving, naturally. Marie let Sam examine first the Colt and then the angel blade before giving them back to her. "They _look_ real to me," he said. "They _feel_ right. - The Colt's loaded with ordinary silver bullets."

Well, then it didn't matter if the Colt were real, it wasn't special without the special bullets. It was just a gun. With silver bullets. And the only way to test whether the angel blade was real was by trying it on an angel. Or a demon, possibly.

She didn't really like the thought of doing either of those things.

"You've got a lot of silver," said Sam, "but you don't have iron because you didn't ask for it?"

"I forgot! Not only that, I don't have a civilian mode. Because, you know, I thought that was _implied_."

"You did get a lot for one wish, even if it was all specific," said Sam thoughtfully.

Dean said, "What did it cost you?"

Marie caught her breath. It was a perfectly Dean kind of question. And it would have been a Maeve kind of question, too. It's the first question she should have asked.

"I - " she stammered. "It was a wish. I got one wish." It wasn't like what Dean must be thinking. It wasn't a contract. It wasn't at a crossroads. She didn't sell her soul. Did she? They did the spell in Marie's bedroom! They were just trying to give Maeve a cute _pet!_

"We'll need to know more about the spell you did," Sam said. "What kind of creature it was. You said you hadn't seen it since you made the wish?"

"That's right," she said, though she hadn't missed Fada at all. "I had to figure stuff out by myself. Though I do get some info through the heads-up display in the goggles."

"Like Sailor Mercury," said Dean.

Marie looked up in disbelief. Sam laughed out loud. Dean hunched his shoulders.

Sam turned his head to look at her. "So get this. Dean heard about - "

"Do not tell this story, dammit."

"You jerks laughed at me, I want the story." And Dean had called her Sailor Marie, too.

Sam was already laughing, it was clear nothing would stop him telling it now. "Dean heard about this legendary Sailor Moon, uh, adult version? from Charlie, and - "

"Totally inappropriate story," said Dean.

"You mean the porn," said Marie, "I've seen it. It's crap."

Sam laughed harder. "I told Dean I found it and gave him a link and said it takes a little while to get to the good stuff. Only I sent him to - "

"Actual Sailor Moon," Marie guessed, and now she was laughing too.

"Yup, so he started watching - "

Dean turned on the radio and turned it up very loud, but Sam had a loud voice and he could shout over it. " - took him _eight episodes_ to realize nothing's gonna happen - "

Marie collapsed on the back seat and laughed until there were real tears in her unreal purple eyes.

It felt so good to laugh, and when it threatened to wind down all she had to do was imagine Dean raptly watching Sailor Scouts transform and waiting for the tentacles.

They let her laugh it out, and Dean left the radio on. She felt better afterwards. It was the magical-girl equivalent to breathing into a paper bag.

They were going to the Men of Letters bunker in Kansas. They wanted to stop to eat, but obviously Marie couldn't go in anywhere with them without attracting attention, and when she said she didn't mind waiting in the car and that she didn't need to eat anyway, Sam frowned.

"What do you mean, you don't need to eat?"

"I haven't needed to eat or drink since I changed."

Another glance between them, and they were both frowning.

"What...?"

"That… doesn't seem weird to you?" said Dean.

Marie laughed, or she tried to. It came out a little shrill. "Dude. _Look_ at me. I ran to Missouri _on a rainbow road in the sky_. Weird is my _entire life_ now."

"Okay, yeah," said Sam, "but human beings can't just live on magic. Not for very long, anyway."

"We're getting drive-thru," Dean decided.

It did smell pretty good, but Marie knew better than to try to eat in the car.

It was dark now, and when they left the main highway it was even darker.

It really was in the sudden middle of nowhere. She couldn't see anything of it outside in the dark, but once they were inside, the bunker was just completely _amazing_.

She'd known about its existence, and some general things about it, but the descriptions in the newest books were a little lacking, in Marie's opinion. The place was severely old-fashioned in a weirdly spacious way, like a museum or a library - and it even had a library of its own. She could smell the books.

Also it was really clean for a place two guys lived in.

Dean dropped the food bags on one of the tables in the big round room. Sam looked apologetic. "There's a table in the kitchen, but usually we eat out here."

"I like it," said Marie, meaning the whole place.

"Sit," said Dean, sliding a wrapped sandwich her way. "Eat."

She looked at it doubtfully, but it only took one bite for her to realize how hungry she was. Sam went out of the room and came back with bottles of water, setting one down next to Marie, and she made short work of that too.

"Okay, you were right. Thanks." She yawned. "Sorry. Last time I slept, I was up a tree."

Sam brought her first one book, then another. The second one was an older edition of the one she had. Yes, there was the spell they used.

"How long ago was that now?" Sam was asking her.

"Uh… I think that was on Friday."

What time was it? She couldn't see a clock anywhere and she didn't have a watch. Oh! Right. She pulled the goggles down over her eyes. - Well, for crying out loud, was that AM or PM?

"Hello, Dean," someone said, and she turned to see a man standing near the table. "Sam." He looked at her.

She stared back at him.

"This is Marie," said Sam. "Marie, this is Cas. Castiel."

"Um," said Marie.

Why was her brain seizing up like this? Well, she hadn't been expecting -

"You directed the play," Castiel said to her. His voice was both raspy and soft.

"What?" She'd heard what he said, but the word was a reflex, startled out of her. "Uh. Yes?"

"And you portrayed Sam."

This was a dream, right? She glanced aside at Sam. Sam looked confused too, so she looked back to Cas. "Yes. That's me."

"I liked it."

"You were _there?"_ Her voice went up wincingly high.

"No. I saw it on YouTube." He was so solemn. "Thank you for my song."

Well. She just - she - What was she supposed to say to that?

"You're welcome," she said, blushing so hot it hurt, and he finally turned his eyes away from hers.

He said something to Dean then, but she wasn't listening. The impulse was too irresistible to think over sensibly, or at all. No time! He was standing right there. She reached up to her goggles, and touched the cat's eye.

**Oh.**

_Oh,_ but he was - how could - he? - _fit_ in a human body? He-or-they-or-it was a _tower of light_ extending up and out through the ceiling, the bunker, the power plant building above, and it just kept on _going_. The real Castiel had to be a thousand feet tall.

Oh, _more_ than a thousand, the readout helpfully told Marie. CASTIEL, SERAPH. Underneath that was a readout on his vessel.  

Her mouth was dry. She realized it was hanging open. She couldn't look away from the light, fascinated by how it changed from moment to moment, intrigued by how it changed when Dean was talking.

Dean was talking… to her? He was saying her name?

The light sort of bent and flowed toward her, and then a shadow fell over her eyes.

There was a jolt of panic and adrenaline. But it was only that Castiel, the human vessel of Castiel, had stepped forward and held his hand in front of Marie's face, blocking her view.

"Take them off!" Dean was saying urgently, and gulping, she shoved the goggles up.

She blinked as Castiel lowered his hand. He was just a rumpled, blue-eyed man in a trench coat again, and he looked concerned, but not angry.

Dean and Sam, however, looked completely freaked out. And they started talking over one another.

Dean: "What the hell were you _thinking_ \- "

Sam: "Do you have any idea how _dangerous_ that - "

Then Dean snapped, "Yes she _does!_ She's read the _books_. She knows exactly what happened to Pam. Right?"

 _Oh._ "Yeah, but - "

"So what were you even _thinking!"_

"No harm has been done," Castiel said calmly.

"These things have a _mode_ for looking at possessed beings," Marie threw in. "Angelic or demonic. There's no point in _having_ that if it just made my eyes blow up, is there?"

And then she saw both of the Winchesters flinch a little and remembered, guiltily, that Pam was a _real person_ and their friend, and also dead now.

"Sorry. I shouldn't've - "

"It's not just - looking at angels," Sam said. "What you're doing is so dangerous, you're hunting all by yourself - "

"A Shtriga? _Really?"_ interjected Dean. "What would you have done if we hadn't - "

"Do you have any _idea_ how rare it is for us, a case where nobody died - "

" - And now here you are, trying to get yourself killed!"

They kept on like that, Sam making a sad worried face and Dean making an angry worried one.

Finally their yelling at her exceeded the yelling at herself she'd been doing all along, and she stood up.

"What was I thinking? _I don't know!_ I didn't plan this! But I tried to think it through. Okay, I forgot the stupid iron! I can be _useful_ \- it's not just weapons and an outfit, I have _powers_ \- " Looking at Dean, she suddenly remembered. "And I have healing powers. I was thinking of you when I asked for them. I can help you!"

Dean snorted. "I don't get hurt that much."

"Okay that's _so_ not true, and that's not even what I mean! I mean that," pointing at his arm. Not that she could see it under his shirt, she didn't even know what it looked like, but she knew it was there: the Mark of Cain.

Dean stared at her.

Castiel finally rejoined the conversation. "It is not an injury. Or an illness." He'd turned away at the mention of Pam. Maybe Marie managed to hurt everybody's feelings at one go. Was that one of her powers too?

"Maybe it's a _poison_ ," she argued. "It's acting like one, isn't it?"

Dean looked blank. Castiel looked grim. But Sam looked thoughtful.

Dean slapped his hands down on the table - it wasn't that loud, but it made Marie jump - and stood up.

"It's not gonna _work_ ," he said to her, and his tone was cold - seriously angry. She felt a prickle of fear on the back of her neck. "And thanks a _lot_ for getting Sam's hopes up."

He turned away, shoving his chair so that it went skidding with a loud squeak across the floor.

A phone rang. It was Sam's. He looked at it. "It's Charlie."

Dean looked around at that, and the expression on his face told Marie that here was another story she didn't know. She did know who Charlie Bradbury was, at least - she appeared in two of the most recent wave of books.

Sam answered. "Charlie, hey. Everything okay - ? " He paused, looked at Marie. Did he want her to leave the room? But he looked down again, listening. "Yeah. We - Yeah." Then he looked at Dean. "Yeah, we're here. See you soon."

"She's coming here?" said Dean as Sam ended the call.

"Yeah." He looked to Castiel. "Oh yeah, you've never met her, have you Cas? At least you get pop culture references now."

"It'll help," said Dean. "Kind of."

Wow. Charlie was coming here. Now. Marie felt uncomfortable in a way that immediately seemed absurd to her, given everything, but she'd had no warning before meeting the actual factual Winchesters (hadn't even believed them when they told her, still and everlastingly cringeworthy). Knowing in advance made it a kind of celebrity thing. It made her nervous.

She turned away from the table and paced around the room. She was feeling a little panicky, and wondered if it was beneath the dignity of a magical girl to request a paper bag to breathe into.

She got tired of pacing the one room and wandered the halls, with permission. Sam offered for her to rest somewhere, but the sleep she got in the tree seemed to have been enough, and anyway she was too full of nervous energy.

When she was sure nobody was watching, she jumped up to the second story, landing neatly on the rail. That was what she was trying to do, but she wasn't going to let anyone see it without a rehearsal. And a good thing too, because she slipped getting down from the rail, what should have been the easy part. The part any normal person should have been able to do.

Marie just never had been that good at being a normal person.

She sat down on the floor, leaned against the railing and sighed.

Then, after a moment's thought, she put her goggles back on and touched the amethyst for more on the MARK OF CAIN.

It was like she thought. She didn't know some of the arcane terms it was using, especially when it used abbreviations, which was often. But the Mark was clearly not as described in Genesis. It came not from God but from Lucifer, and it did act like a poison. Yes!

She was going to be able to _fix_ this. She was going to be able to do something that really _helped_. She just had to get Dean to agree.

Well. Did she, though? Really?

Maybe it would be better to catch him unawares when he was calm. But she hadn't used the magic yet and maybe it wasn't instantaneous. It was hard to know whether magical-girl attacks and transformations happened in real time. They'd wrangled over it, she and Maeve, more than once while watching anime. 'Why are the enemies just standing there while they rev up the magic' had been their first argument, in fact.

Suppose the Mark _made_ Dean resist something that would get rid of it?

Maybe she could talk to Sam or Castiel, find out what they thought. She could have backup. That would be nice for a change. A second opinion at least.

She got up and went to see if she could find either of them. She'd have to try to come up with some excuse to talk away from Dean. Maybe she could…

"Hey. Marie?"

Dean found her first. He'd come looking for her.

She stopped short as the targeting scanner in her goggles flashed on, lines converging on Dean's face. She stared.

_His eyes were black._


	5. Attack Phrase

Marie stared into those midnight eyes in Dean's face and there was nothing she could say.

"Sam was just saying we could - Hey - Kiddo, you okay?"

She backed up a step. That put her off balance so she backed up another step.

His eyes, fixed on her, were black from lid to lid and it was so _wrong_ in his face. Her heart was knocking on the inside of her ribs. This was a very bad, actually the _worst_ possible time to feel like she might faint.

"Marie?"

He stepped forward, and she raised her arm in reflexive defense. The shield deployed with a metallic sound like a sword being drawn. _Shing!_ It was as loud as a shout. Dean, startled, raised his hands.

"Don't move!" she said, and somehow she was shouting, and her voice shook too.

"What the hell!" said the demon Dean.

Some little voice in the back of her mind pointed out that he wasn't acting different, he wasn't doing anything. But those black eyes were like a snake or a centipede, the sight of them caused an instinctive revulsion of fear. The goggles were not helping with this, flashing warnings and making helpful comments like URGENT ACTION REQUIRED. There was also some kind of countdown timer running down in the corner where the clock should be, but she had no idea what it was for!

 _Too close._ She jumped backward, a big magical-girl jump that landed her skidding on her kickass boots at the other end of the room. She couldn't even remember arming it, but the crossbow was primed and her arm shook only a little as she aimed it right at Dean.

"Whoa!"

"Marie! What's going on, what are you _doing?"_

That was Sam. Sam wasn't looking at Dean, he didn't _see!_

Wait, this wasn't what she wanted here. The silver darts weren't going to do anything but annoy him, and opening the shield had been a reflex, when what she needed was both of her hands free. She retracted the shield and disarmed the crossbow.

 _Think!_ It was hard, it was so hard to think clearly. The stuff the goggles flashed at her seemed like nonsense. _Demon_. Holy water, devil's trap. She lifted her hands. But this wasn't a smoke demon. This was Dean. She wanted to help him. She still could, but it had to be now.

"Hold still," she said, probably not even loud enough for him to hear.

_"Stop!"_

She couldn't even tell who was talking. It didn't matter. If she didn't do it now she was going to faint.

She set her feet and reached her hands out toward Dean so that her thumbs and index fingers made a triangle.

Nothing happened. _Oh God do I have to come up with an attack phrase NOW?_

"Really getting sick of this crap," she muttered. Then, louder, "Moon. Light. _Heal Poison."_

Pure white light blossomed in her hands, throwing everything in the room into almost black-and-white purity. It wasn't just light but energy, a startling amount of power, pouring out of her hands and getting hotter and brighter. There was wind, too, coming from somewhere, whipping her hair and coat, swallowing all other sounds.

The light was going to burn her up if she held onto it. And the point was to _use_ it. What was it _waiting_ for, for crying out loud!

"I _said_ , Heal!! Poison!!"

She **_pushed_ ** \- and the bright moon of light in her hands became a streak, a beam, plowing across the floor and hitting Dean like slow-motion lightning.

A sound like a thunderclap hurt her ears so that for a moment she thought she'd been deafened. She staggered, and found she didn't even have the energy to stay on her feet. She landed painfully on one knee, then her elbow. The marble floor was hard and cold.

Her goggles were flashing nonsense symbols, filling her vision. She reached up to take them off. Her arm felt so heavy she could hardly lift it. The strap snagged in her hair and pulled painfully as she dragged the goggles free, then she had to let her arm drop down.

Her hearing was starting to come back. Someone was calling her name. She could hear it as though from deep underwater.

She needed to - get up. Get to her feet. She couldn't seem to do it. Something was holding her down. There was no energy in her, she'd drained it all away at once in that spell. It felt like the time two years ago when she'd had mono and couldn't get out of bed for a week. Only worse. Even her head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Lifting it took so much effort that there were tears in her eyes.

Across the room, Dean lay sprawled out. Sam and Castiel were near him. But they couldn't seem to touch him.

"Marie," it sounded urgent, and familiar - she turned her head, blinking and trying to focus. There was a red-headed woman in a yellow t-shirt. _Huh?_ Marie had never seen her before.

Beside her stood someone else.

_Maeve._

Marie felt such amazement and relief at the sight of her that she laughed out loud. Maeve! Maeve was _talking to her._ Everything was actually going to be all right.

A little voice from above her said, "Well done, Hunter Moon!"

 _Huh?_ She looked up - turning her head took so terribly long.

It was Fada. Pink, smelly and unwelcome as ever. It was floating in the air, squinching happily at her.

"What the hell _is_ that thing?" rasped Dean. His eyes were normal, she could see that all the way across the room. Did she heal him? But he was also on the floor, struggling to rise.

"What thing?" said Sam.

"You have fulfilled your contract," Fada said. "You fought for us. Well done!"

"What…?"

Maeve and the red-headed woman - who must be Charlie - were conferring. Charlie could see Fada: she was pointing at it. Maeve still couldn't see it. And Sam couldn't.

Gasp. _Does that mean…?_

"That thing is some kind of fairy," said Charlie. "But there's something - _wrong_ with it." Stepping forward and squinting, "Is that a _seam_ …?"

"I suppose I can let the rest of you see me now," said Fada, a lot more coldly, and then without any more warning than that, it burst. Charlie jumped and covered her face. But it was fake fur and stuffing raining down, not blood and guts.

In the creature's place was a bright coruscating ball of light that hummed and glittered. Marie blinked, and tried to focus on it.

It was a fairy. It was a tiny, twinkling, stark naked tinkerbell fairy.

It was a stark naked, _male_ tinkerbell fairy.

"Oh my God," said Maeve and Sam, almost in unison, staring at the hovering light. Dean groaned.

Marie just stared.

"The fairy is a _furry_ ," said Charlie, her tone equal parts wonder and disgust.

Finally Marie managed to lurch to her feet, but she couldn't do anything more than just stay upright. There was a circle on the floor around her, she now saw. There was one around Dean, too.

"You… slept in my _bed_." It was the first thing she could think of, and possibly the least important thing ever. But eww. "You _pretended_ to be a magical animal?"

"You summoned a magical creature. I answered your summons in the form you wished to see. It was very specific."

"I didn't summon you! - Well - I helped summon you, yes, but I didn't _want_ you! Maeve wanted you!"

"No, but you were the one qualified. You are a first born."

Maeve was nodding. She'd already figured this out, of course. Where was Charlie? She'd been standing right there a moment ago.

"I thought it was 'first born son'," said Sam.

"An only child is close enough for us."

"What was that about a contract?" said Marie. "I don't fight for you!"

"You said, 'I will fight.' Did you not? For whom, then, but those who granted you your powers? Why are you angry, Hunter Moon? You have already given us what we want. You don't have to fight anymore."

"What are you talking about? You tricked me! I wanted to help my friends! Not hurt them!"

As soon as the word left her mouth she felt ashamed to say, 'friends'. What kind of a friend had she turned out to be? To anyone?

"We gave you everything you asked for."

"I asked to be able to heal him! You cheated me." She wanted to shout, but she could barely lift her voice above a whisper.

"No. You asked to be able to heal the ones who were _not beyond saving_." She couldn't see his little face, but there was a big, self-satisfied smile in Fada's voice.

 _Can I hit him with the crossbow?_ she wondered. It was a tempting thought. But she doubted it. Fada was very small, out of the pink fur costume. She wouldn't be able to make such a long shot without the goggles' targeting scanner. And maybe not even with it. If it was fairy magic, maybe it wouldn't help her against a fairy. They'd been manipulating her from the start, she saw that now.

 _And_ she didn't have any iron.

"What is it that you want?" said Castiel. Marie had forgotten he was here. Her focus was like a wavering tunnel, threatening to collapse.

"We want our rightful property according to the ancient laws. We claim the _monster_ known as Dean Winchester."

The loathing in Fada's clear, silvery voice was unmistakable.

"What the hell," said Dean. His voice was strained, hoarse, and like Marie, he was barely on his feet. He was clenching and unclenching his fist, but there was nothing for him to hit. "What'd I ever do to you?"

Marie was already wincing in anticipation before Fada hurled himself like a shooting star at Dean's face. There was an unpleasant crunchy sound and a shout of pain. Dean's nose was bleeding as the fairy flew back.

"Monster!" he shouted, in a tiny voice as clear as a silver bell. "Scumbag! You killed my kinswoman! Somebody ought to cook _you_ in an oven!"

"Anything that goes upside my head is fair game! That includes you, Tinkerballs."

It was a funny thing to say, and his voice had gone all nasal too, but the _look_ on Dean's face - and the blood - made it not funny at all.

Castiel said, "So your intention is to take him?" He seemed - bigger suddenly. Not his body, but his shadow was suddenly much bigger, and his eyes were too bright to look at.

"We have that right. There's nothing _you_ can do about it, angel. Lawful is as lawful does. But," and Fada sounded angry and sullen now, "I am authorized to bargain."

"What is it you want?" His eyes weren't flashing anymore, but Castiel's shadow was still enormous.

"Not to bargain with _you_ ," spat the fairy, and veered around to Sam. "With you."

"Me?"

Sam's voice was astonished. Marie didn't understand it either. But Maeve said, "Sam was the one that banished them. He sent them back to their realm."

"That is not where he sent us!" Fada shouted at Maeve, hovering as aggressively as a hornet - and Marie felt a jolt of fear that he would hit Maeve, too, and make her bleed. _Oh no you won't._ Quietly she armed the crossbow again.

But the fairy's attention was back on Sam. "You sent us to a miserable, empty place with no trees and no sky! A place too small for even our diminished number. And it is collapsing around us.

"You will reverse the spell that banished us. In return we will permit our property to remain with you. If you refuse, we will keep him and when we are crushed into nothingness and vanish, so will he."

Marie looked to Dean. She tried to tell him _I'm so sorry_ with her eyes. _I'm so sorry I did this to you._

He shook his head a little. Blood dripped from his chin at the movement.

"Hunter Moon belongs to us, as well," Fada said, with the air of a bratty chess genius announcing Checkmate. "If that helps you to decide."

Marie closed her eyes and groaned. And now she was a _hostage_. Even she wasn't enough of a disaster to say it out loud, but things just could not get any worse.

***

Sam said, "I don't remember the spell. It was years ago."

"There is more than one copy of the relevant book under this roof," the fairy said. "I feel sure you can find one quickly."

Maeve saw Sam trade a look with Dean.

"Don't do it," Dean snarled. He looked like he was being weighed down by an invisible boulder. He slid down to one knee, panting. "They'll just… Take more victims."

"Are you _kidding_ me," Sam snapped, and then he dashed out of the room. He was back very quickly. He'd known exactly where it was. He found the spell and started to read.

Maeve looked to Marie. She had her eyes closed, and she was trembling. But she was still on her feet, and she looked so brave and lost that Maeve felt her heart turn over. Even while she'd been yelling at Marie to stop, it had been impossible not to see how amazing she looked when she threw that spell. 'Hunter Moon' indeed - sort of ridiculous, sort of apt, all Marie. An actual, factual magical girl.

But now the fairies had Hunter Moon, and where was Charlie? She'd said she knew exactly where the stone was -

On the heels of that thought, Charlie came pelting back into the room, panting and wide-eyed. Couldn't she find it? What would they do if -

"Incoming," and _something_ was flying through the air. Maeve put out her hand, and the _something_ , small and hard and smooth, slapped into her palm. Her fingers closed around it.

"What is that?" said the fairy suspiciously, but Maeve ignored him. Marie had opened her eyes and was staring at her. She looked exhausted, ready to drop.

"I'm so sorry," Marie said.

Maeve just shook her head. There would be time for this later. Something was happening. There was a sort of… surging in the air all around them. But if there were fairies coming through, she couldn't see them - only the little one that started all of this. But Sam was still reading the spell. The words were nonsense to Maeve - they weren't Latin. Maybe Gaelic.

The thing in Maeve's palm was a smooth, polished stone, blue as Castiel's eye. It was getting warm in her hand, almost tingling. It was starting to glow. Just like Charlie had said it would. She closed her fingers around it and held it against her heart.

She looked up at Marie, gave her a wink as jaunty as she could manage.

"My turn," she said.

She had just enough time to savor the look on Marie's face before the transformation took her over.


	6. Traveler Moon

Maeve and Charlie had talked it over on the way to Kansas. The stone had come to the Men of Letters' collection via Oz, though it wasn't originally from there. The important thing was, it wasn't fairy magic, nor was it demonic. As far as the Men of Letters knew, it was a relatively safe magical object to use, in the sense that it didn't indebt the user to anyone or compromise their soul.

But it had limits, of course. Charlie couldn't use it, because only a 'young girl' could make it work. And it could give a girl any three wishes, but its power only lasted while the wisher held the stone. Once she dropped it, for any reason, the magic would end. And it only worked once for anyone. So she had to make it count.

The problem was, they didn't know exactly what she would be facing, apart from fairies. So they decided on two powers, and Maeve would decide the third wish based on the situation they found.

"What about your costume?" Charlie asked. Maeve had snorted.

"If it takes up a wish I don't want one. I can be a magical girl in jeans and a t-shirt. I don't care."

"I hear that," said Charlie. "You should see the crap they expect female warriors to wear and actually fight in! I had to make regulations."

Now, as Maeve held the stone and felt the power filling her up and spilling over, she realized the costume did not take up a wish. It was just something that happened, and it went with your personality. She had Marie's theme to play off of, too - she liked the steampunk look, but she went with blues instead of pink and purple.

She liked Marie's costume not having a short skirt or indeed a skirt at all, but Maeve thought she'd like one. A long one. More Victorian, then. Corset and bustle stuff looked cool. A trim little jacket, not that capelike thing, what had Marie been thinking? (Answer: that it would look cool. And it did. But still.) Not full-on Victorian, though. No gloves. Maeve hated gloves even in winter. And no _hat_. She could hear Marie in her mind's ear urging that she had to have one, but Maeve didn't care how cute it was, there was no purpose served by a tiny little top hat sticking out at an angle. She just wasn't going there.

A mask would be okay though. Not because of any secret identity or anything, but just as a cool accessory. Marie would have a conniption if she didn't make any effort at all. A filigree one that only covered half her face. Lace-up boots, very low heels. Fine. Enough cosplay.

She didn't need weapons. Marie had weapons. (Did she _ever_ have weapons. It was a wonder she hadn't also wished for a broadsword or a battle-axe to strap onto her back.) No, Maeve wished exclusively for powers. _Executive_ powers.

First, control of time, great and small, with one hand.

Second, _immunity_ to time. They'd talked this over for an hour at a Biggerson's en route. Some powers were useless, or crazy dangerous, unless paired with another - strength without invulnerability, invisibility without untouchability, speed without strength. When it came to time travel, it wasn't enough to control time. It was important to be able to _remember what you'd done_ for that control to be meaningful. Imagine, Charlie had said, you knew you could time travel but you never knew when you'd done it. How would you ever know you could stop?

And third… she looked to Marie, who stood staring at her in abject amazement. Now she knew what else they needed. Maeve thought it through for one more moment, nodded to herself, and made her final wish.

***

It wasn't that it didn't take any time for Maeve to transform, it took almost a whole two minutes. But everything else was frozen waiting for her. Marie kept thinking, _Hat! You need a hat with that_ , but actually the mask was awesome, much better really.

Then motion resumed, and with it Marie felt a surge of power and clarity burning through her, blowing away the cobwebs and trembling, pulling her to stand up straight. She had _power_. She had more power than she did before she tried to heal Dean. If she wanted to, she could leap over the real Castiel with a single bound.

"Level up, Hunter Moon," said Maeve, with a grin. "Want a tiara with that?"

"Maeve!" she said, and then she laughed. And walked right out of the circle. It couldn't hold her anymore. There was too much power in her now for such a paltry prison.

"What are you doing?" Fada shouted.

"Don't you have any weapons?" she said to Maeve, a little doubtfully. It wasn't obvious what Maeve's powers were. Great colors though. Even her hair and eyes were deep, deep blue.

She saw the glimmer of light out of the corner of her eye before she heard Charlie shout a warning. Without even looking she lifted her arm to shield her head. _Shing!_ went the shield. **THUD!** went the fairy, smashing into the opened shield instead of into her face. There was something _enormously_ satisfying about the sound. Fada didn't fall to the floor, but he flew back looking as drunk as Ms. Chandler on a bad day.

"You're the tank in this party," said Maeve. "I'm a magic user. I only need one hand." She turned the fist that still contained the stone. "Can't let go of this no matter what. So I couldn't use a weapon anyway."

"You're the weapon," said Marie, because it sounded cool, and also it was true. "What kind of magic?"

"Time." Maeve raised her hand. "Grab my hand. No, the other one."

Awkwardly, Marie wrapped her fingers around Maeve's closed fist.

Across the room, Sam finished reading the spell.

There was a _cut_ in the air with light bleeding out. And there were the fairies.

Fada had said their numbers were diminished, but there seemed to be an awful lot of them all the same. A fairy host. All kinds of creatures, only some of them comprehensible to Marie's eye. There were things she thought of as trolls, and those other things might have been elves, but some of them seemed partly formless. There were a lot of things that were like misshapen animals, from small to large, and all of them were pouring out through the light, struggling and snarling.

"Prisoner Zero is escaping!" Charlie shrilled, stumbling back. Castiel strode forward to stand between Dean and the oncoming horde, arms outstretched, eyes flashing.

With her other hand, Maeve pinched her thumb and forefinger together - and everything stopped. Except for the two of them.

"Sweet!" said Marie appreciatively.

Now she was able to see everything that had been happening around her when she was too exhausted to see, and then too overjoyed to take it in. Dean was still in his circle, down on one knee, head bowed. A drop of blood hung glittering like a ruby between his mouth and the floor. Castiel stood trying to shield him. Sam still held the book. Charlie had a gun and was sheltering behind one of the pillars. Fada hung in the air, glaring balefully at Marie. His little pointy teeth were clenched. And a stampede of every kind of fairy was frozen mid-surge, some of them still coming out of the cut in the air.

"Can I do a spell now? Would it work outside of time?" Marie wondered excitedly. The fairies must have interfered with her Heal spell, but _now_ -

"Not if you need both hands to cast it," said Maeve. "Sorry. If you let go of me, time stops for you too."

"Damn." She had one-handed spells, but nothing relevant here. "Do… we have a plan?"

Maeve sighed. Marie felt a stab of dismay and guilt. She squeezed Maeve's hand. "No, wait, I mean - do YOU have a plan for saving my sorry ass? Because my sorry ass is really, _really_ sorry. I never meant - "

"We only have time for this because I can _literally_ stop time," Maeve said. "But it takes power and we've got a job to do. Yes. We have a plan. Charlie is the 'Queen of Moons', by the way. When I realized that what we summoned had to be a fairy, I got in touch with her and we did some digging.

"Now the spell's been done we can't keep them out of our world. But I can send them back in time. Way back, all the way back. Before there were people. They can have all the sky and trees they want - but no people to prey upon. See?"

"That is so brilliant. You're a genius. And you're MAGICAL, oh my God look at you! Traveler Moon!"

Maeve groaned. "Not Hunter Mercury? Or Hunter Chronos?"

"Oh, crap. I'm sorry. I'm such a _bulldozer_. You should choose - "

Maeve laughed and shook her head. "Traveler Moon works. And sometimes, a bulldozer is just what you need." Nodding at the fairy horde, "They're not gonna go without a fight."

"I still don't have any iron."

"You don't have to kill them, just keep them busy while I make the spell big enough to contain them all."

"Okay," a little reluctantly, as she looked them over. She hadn't been thinking of it as kill/not kill. More not die/die.

"One more thing. I don't think… You can't let go of my hand. It's… I'm already having a hard time holding the stone. You've got to help me hold onto it. Your power depends on it too, now."

Marie opened her mouth to point out that if only Maeve had been wearing costume-appropriate _gloves_ , she would have been able to slip the stone into one of them and not even had to worry about it. Then she recalled the many things she herself forgot to ask for. The fairies might have fed her a lot of disinformation, but at least she'd had her hands free.

What she said was, "Okay. But that's my crossbow hand, all I've got on this side is the shield."

"You've also got the Colt," said Maeve.

Oh.

Yes.

This time when she pulled it out of its holster on her thigh, the Colt's weight felt reassuring. There was a faint oil smell to it too, that reminded her of Dean. She looked over at him again. She didn't have to wonder what he might have been thinking when Maeve stopped the clock. He was blaming himself for everything - come what may. But the others? Sam, Castiel, Charlie, all frozen in time, who were _they_ blaming?

"Hey," said Maeve.

Marie turned her head to look at her.

"I'm sorry. For all that stuff I said. It wasn't even true. And I know none of it was your fault. You shouldn't have had to do all this alone."

 _I was a complete doofus and that little bastard tricked me and I'm lucky you still even speak to me,_ Marie thought. But she could already feel a faint trembling in Maeve's hand. All of that stuff could wait. They could have a GM (Girl Melodrama) moment after they got out of this. Or should that be 'MGM moment'?

"Magical girls should be in teams," she said, with a smile, and cocked the gun. "C'mon, Traveler Moon, let's go fight the fairies."

***

It was hard later to remember the battle. Marie didn't know if that had to do with the fairies, or if that was what war was like, or what. It was definitely a lot more fun than war was supposed to be. Even with the constraint of using only her left arm, she was so ridiculously powerful now that she wasn't in any danger of getting hurt. But Maeve was, and she had to protect Maeve.

She was _certain_ that she had never asked for a Reload spell for the Colt, but then, she did just level up. She wasn't exactly a crack shot - and she'd long since taken the goggles off, so no help there - but there were so many fairies that it was hard _not_ to hit one of them if she fired in the correct general direction. It didn't kill any of them, but they didn't like it.

Her boots were fully kickass in every sense. And she could kick _hard_.

Meanwhile, Castiel had his blade in his hand. A cluster of creatures had advanced and were dragging at Dean, and the angel was fighting them. Sam was there beside him with some kind of iron weapon - it looked like a fireplace poker. It was incredibly effective. Marie was envious.

And all the while Maeve had her eyes closed, murmuring something to herself Marie couldn't hear, making a gesture with her free hand that went around and around and around like a clock hand.

She should have kept her eye on Fada. The little light, bobbing and weaving, was the only one like it amongst the fairy host. By the time she saw him coming, there was no possibility of lifting and aiming the heavy gun in time to shoot at him. He was aiming straight for her and Maeve's joined hands. He was going to collide with them, and make Maeve drop the stone.

_NO!_

She didn't even think. She lunged. The movement almost jostled their hands apart as it was, but she shoved her other arm forward and down and as she did, the shield opened. But this time, it was positioned edge-on to the incoming projectile.

The familiar _shing!_ was obscured by a really rather horrible buzz-saw noise and a short-lived, high-pitched scream. Marie shrieked (she couldn't help it) as she was spattered with blood and gore and _ecch_ that sparkled hideously pink. It was absolutely _disgusting_.

She spat, and retched, and spat again. But she did not release Maeve's hand. And she lifted up the gun again without bothering to make a wisecrack, because Maeve was trying to concentrate, and Fada was way too dead to hear it.

Charlie and Sam were dragging Dean and Castiel back as a circle of light that wavered like water spread rippling out across the floor, engulfing the fairies as they writhed and howled. Maeve's muttering was loud and continuous and her hand was sweating. Marie carefully resettled her grip, one finger at a time. They should have tied their hands together, but what with? It just went to show that even Maeve couldn't always think of absolutely everything.

 _"Go back,"_ whispered Maeve.

Then there was a silent implosion of moon-white light.

***

"Maeve?"

When Maeve opened her eyes, she was outside.

What?

_If I blew up the Men of Letters bunker, Marie will never let me live it down._

Marie was still holding her hand. The stone was throbbing dully against Maeve's palm like a wound. She was so sick of holding it already. She was so tired.

She blinked up past Marie at a night sky so full of stars it just couldn't be real. It was like a painting of stars superimposed over another painting, also of stars.

"Maeve," said Marie firmly. "Come on, talk to me."

"Where are we?" Her voice was so faint, Marie had to lean in to hear her over the din of crickets.

"Still Lebanon, Kansas, I assume," said Marie. "About a billion squillion years ago, probably. You sent the fairies back. Or maybe I should say, you _brought_ them back. We went with them."

Maeve groaned and closed her eyes.

"Please don't pass out again," Marie begged. "We almost lost the stone once already, wake up so you can take us back."

Maeve made a gasping noise that was supposed to be a laugh. Take them back? She even couldn't move her head. She was tapped out.

"Screwed up," she murmured. "Assumed we were exempt."

"Totally understandable," Marie said immediately.

There was a sound nearby, and Marie tensed. Maeve opened her eyes. Some of the fairies were approaching. Some of them had eyes that glowed in the dark.

"Well, great. The Land Before Time has nobody to prey on but us." Marie reached to draw the Colt - and groaned. "Son of a bitch! I must have dropped it in the bunker - "

Then she paused, and a big smile spread across her face. Maeve had no idea what she was grinning about, but there were more fairies now and they were getting closer.

"Here, you guys," Marie called out. "Need something to do?" She swung her free arm, and summoned a circle of salt wide around the two of them. She kept swinging and laid it on thick, muttering _"Salt, salt, salt,"_ as the approaching creatures all halted in confusion, and then settled in to count the grains.

"That'll keep them busy for a while," she said with satisfaction. "Why didn't I do that earlier?"

The word _earlier_ nagged at Maeve's fading brain. She'd thought of something, tried to plan for something, but she couldn't think of it now. What was it? It was something about her wish. Wishes. Her third wish.

Oh!

"Marie."

Marie looked down at Maeve, her triumphant grin fading.

"Third wish I made. Leveled you up with." Marie was nodding and opening her mouth to start blathering again. " _Listen_. I made it… ambiguous. Technicality." Like the technicality the tinkerbell fairy had hit Marie with when she'd tried to heal Dean. "'Share power' with you. That was my wish."

She didn't know how to explain it any better than that. Marie should understand. It was a basic component of the magical girl. The power of friendship! But she was frowning at Maeve and obviously didn't get it at all. She looked like she was about to say, _Line?_

"You still have power," Maeve whispered. "Share it with me before I pass out and we're stuck here."

"Oh!"

She could hear Marie nattering to herself about how she was supposed to do that. But her head was lolling. She couldn't do any more to help until Marie helped her.

"Okay," she heard Marie saying. "Okay, this better work, Maeve, stay with me," and then Marie's hand was touching her forehead. "New moon, full moon," said Marie, "Full moon, new moon. _Phase change."_

When the white light flowed into her, Maeve sighed with relief as energy returned. When it kept going, she started to worry.

 _I said share it, not give it_ all _to me!_

But she did. Not only all of the power Maeve had given her before, but all the power Marie had. All the weapons. The crossbow, the shield, the angel blade all shimmered and vanished and became more power that flowed into Maeve. The silver knife. The boots. The coat. The fantasy colors of her hair and her eyes. All these she gave away. Everything. Everything until she was just Marie, barefoot in her pajamas, thinner than she should be, glasses askew on her face, and her eyes rolling back in her head.

_That's enough!_

Marie's hand fell slack, but Maeve was expecting it and she held on to the stone. _Just a little longer._ She wrapped that arm around Marie's neck and, taking a deep breath, made the sweeping gesture for a large amount of time, clockwise from her perspective: Forward. _Forward to where we were._

Just in case it wasn't perfectly clear she added, _Just the two of us!_

Even with Marie giving too much, it almost wasn't enough. The stone in Maeve's hand was painfully hot. She was sure it was burning the flesh of her palm. But she had to hold onto it until they finished the trip. If she dropped it now, maybe they would pop out into the wrong time… Or maybe never arrive anywhere ever again.

She held tight to Marie and struggled to keep her focus, to not lose them now, so near the end. She would not lose them now. Not after all this. Not after all the dangers untold and hardships unnumbered.

The next thing Maeve knew, there was light (the normal kind of light) and sound (instead of just muffled rushing and her own heartbeat in her ears) and a cold, hard surface, and then a splintering pain in her hand. Before she could stop herself, her fingers spread wide in reflex, and the shattered, spent fragments of the stone clattered to the floor.

She was kneeling on the floor in the bunker, and the place was a mess. Marie was half in her lap, eyes still rolled up - but she was breathing.

Maeve took a deep breath and blew it out. _We're alive._ She looked around, but didn't see anyone near to tell them so. She looked back down, noticing only now that she too was back to normal, whatever that was. Jeans and a t-shirt. Marie in pajamas. No more magical girls.

But they'd done it. They'd gotten rid of the fairies, and they made it back alive. The mess Maeve started by wanting a nonallergenic pet was finally cleaned up, in the figurative sense. The literal sense might take longer. The spell Marie tried to heal Dean with had plowed a furrow in the marble floor the width of a bowling alley gutter. That was a good sign in the immediate sense, it meant they hadn't arrived too soon in the timeline. She wasn't sure the time immunity power had been useful after all. She wished now she'd said _time awareness._

Her hand smarted. She looked at it, picked a blue shard out of the flesh, and only then saw the shape faintly etched into her palm.

It looked like an hourglass.

Huh.

***

When she woke up, Marie had to drink a whole little bottle of orange juice before Maeve (stationed in the chair by the bed) would even let her get up to go to the bathroom. She was probably right, too, because Marie was not at all steady on her feet and had to lean against walls and doorjambs and countertops.

Her eyes were crusty, and wow, she smelled bad. She needed a shower, _stat_. She just wasn't sure she could stand up long enough. When she went to wash her hands and saw herself in the mirror she cringed. There was a streak of pink glitter on her face. _Ugh!_

Shower _not_ optional. She could shower sitting down. That was what she did.

When she finally crawled out, there was a stack of towels on the counter and a pile of clothes. The pants were loose on her but they were close enough. The t-shirt she recognized as one of Maeve's favorites. There was a brand new toothbrush too. Joy! No, seriously. _Joy_.

She looked at herself again, and still cringed, though not as much. She looked like she'd been sick. The fairies had made her think she didn't need anything, because they were just using her, burning her up for their benefit. She was supposed to cross paths with Sam and Dean because they'd wanted _Dean_. If she collapsed at their feet, even if she dropped dead, so what? They were using her as a Trojan horse, only instead of being filled with soldiers or malware, it was fairies.

But Maeve saved the day. In fact, Maeve saved _everybody_.

Now, her mirror self was her ordinary self again. Dark hair, boring colored eyes. Just Marie.

_Yes!_

When she went out, they made her eat breakfast. Not that she wasn't starving, and completely on board with the whole breakfast thing, but Dean glowered at her till she ate much more than she could comfortably contain.

It was annoying, this kind of attention. But apparently they'd been considering bringing her to a hospital. She was glad they hadn't. Wouldn't _that_ be a lot of fun to explain?

That led to a line of thought she was ashamed not to have had till now. "My mom," she started to say, but Maeve said, "I called her."

Oh. Good. But. "What did you _tell_ her?"

Maeve hesitated. "There… might be a little fallout. I'm sorry, I had to tell her something plausible."

"You ran away and joined the circus," said Dean.

"What? No I didn't!"

"That's not what I said! I said you went to New York to, er, find yourself? She assumed I meant as an actress. You'd better call her so she can hear your voice."

It actually wasn't a bad angle as far as damage control went. Marie's mom liked Glee. Still, she was going to end up grounded for the entirety of the foreseeable future.

"There's a vampire nest in New York, by the way," Marie said absently. "If that's even true. I saw it in the goggles."

"Oh!" said Sam. He went out of the room and came back. "You dropped these."

"Are you _kidding_ me," she breathed. She was almost afraid to touch them, but they were solid in her hand.

"Sorry to say they don't work anymore," said Charlie. "Everybody wanted a look at Cas, but those things are dead as a pair of doornails. Kind of a cool souvenir, though. Perfectly suitable for steampunk cosplay," with her nervous little laugh.

Cas. "Where is he, anyway?"

Sam said, "He had stuff he had to do," in a way that made her assume had something to do with Dean.

"You dropped the Colt, too, by the way," Dean diverted her by saying. "Hope you don't mind that we're keeping it."

"Of course, it's yours," she said automatically. Then, "It's real? It didn't disappear. Or these. - The other stuff did."

Sam said, "As far as we can tell, it really is the real Colt. The fairies had it, or else they knew where it was."

"So that's it?" said Marie, holding the now-useless goggles in her hands, and looking at Maeve. "We're not magical anymore."

Maeve shrugged. "We are magical girls, _retired_."

Dean laughed and said, "No more Pinky Tuscadero."

"Oh my God you are SO OLD," groaned Marie without a hint of guilt, then or ever.

Then she went to call her mom.

***

Charlie was going to take them back to Michigan in her little yellow car. Maeve had told her own mom a story about a college recruiting her, much better than running away. Maeve, thinking things through.

It was time for goodbyes. They were embarrassing.

"I'm really sorry about everything," she said to Dean and Sam. "I wanted to help you. But I let them con me."

"It was a pretty long con," Dean said.

"They were looking for an opportunity," Sam added. "If you think about it, it's a good thing it was _you_ that sprang their trap."

"Only 'cause Maeve was there to save my ass." She put an arm around Maeve's shoulders and gave her a grateful squeeze. "Credit where it's due."

"No, if it weren't for _you_ , we'd be fossils right now," Maeve said, stubborn and loyal and awesome.

"Aww," said Charlie. "I totally ship you guys."

Marie pulled her arm back, blushing furiously. "Come on!" she snapped.

Dean pointed at her with a look of jubilant schadenfreude. _"Hah!!"_

Maeve laughed, too. Which was, somehow, both more and less embarrassing.

***

Hours later, in the car, while Charlie was using the gas station bathroom, Marie tried on the goggles.

They came on. She gasped a little.

"They only work for you, then," Maeve said, and she sounded less surprised than Marie felt.

Marie tried the buttons and the menus. "Ghost vision works. Yeesh. I hate ghost vision. - The ticker thing is gone. It doesn't tell me about stuff that's happening anymore." The cat's eye, well, no way to know without a possessed being around, but maybe it still worked.

"Crap! The clock's gone too."

"It's four thirty-seven," said Maeve, though she didn't have a watch on.

Marie pulled the goggles off again. Almost apologetically, Maeve showed her the hourglass mark on her palm.

They looked at each other.

Then the door noise and change of air, as Charlie got back into the car.

"Talk later?" whispered Marie. Maeve nodded.

"I am _absolutely_ interrupting something," Charlie practically twinkled as she put her seatbelt on, and she grinned at the look on Marie's face. "Sorry. Gotta drive though. Don't mind me!"

And she made them listen to Walking On Sunshine _again_ , for the fifth of the twelve times she played it on the way back to Flint.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my usual kind of story. :) The whole thing came from one idea: the thought of a tinkerbell fairy angrily shouting at Dean that someone ought to cook HIM in an oven. Then I thought, oh, haha, the fairy could be the mascot of a magical girl that also fights supernatural stuff. And they all get roped into her team. (It was going to be called "Magical Bitches.") Then I thought, WAIT, OH MY GOD, MARIE. I love Marie, and Maeve, and I've had more fun (and struggle) with this story than I could have imagined. The story would not leave me alone, and yet sometimes it would only come out as through an eyedropper. Thank you to TSylvestris for helping me all the way through, and to Ninja-Sam for help with the plot.
> 
> I wish I were an artist, I long to see their costumes. Hunter Moon's coat is partly based on that of [Kyoko from Madoka Magica](https://www.google.com/search?q=kyoko+madoka&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=0AggVdbpLIuxogTcxYDoCQ&ved=0CB4QsAQ&biw=1110&bih=820), but also this beautiful [Callot Soeurs antique](https://lovinglifeandbeingabitch.wordpress.com/2012/04/13/callot-soeurs/). 
> 
> Oh, theme song. You bet there's a theme song. "I'm Alive" by Becca, for the opening theme. For the closing credits, "Immortals" by Fall Out Boy. Yes, both of those songs are borrowed from other things (Black Butler and Big Hero 6), but that's appropriate enough. I listened to both songs a lot while writing this.
> 
> We never do find out Marie's last name. I didn't want to give her one, in case they ever bring her back and give her one, which I hope they do. (Personally I like to think it's "Van Pelt" like Lucy from Peanuts.)
> 
> ***
> 
> I was originally thinking there would be a sequel. But now, well. Given the events of the show since I posted this fic, the sequel would have to deal with the loss of Charlie. I don't at all relish the thought of Marie and Maeve finding this out. _I don't want to be the one who has to tell them._

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Hunter Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3794779) by [AxeMeAboutAxinomancy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxeMeAboutAxinomancy/pseuds/AxeMeAboutAxinomancy)




End file.
